Intrusion of Death

Most mothers would say that they know their child's heart...in a theoretical way. I, on the other hand, know my daughter's heart literally. I know exactly how much it weighs, it's color and the condition of its interior. The state of Florida requires an autopsy be performed for all accidental deaths. Since receiving a copy of Lauren's autopsy report last week I am now privy to more details about her heart and other areas of her body than any mother ever needs to be.
Death keeps no secrets. There is no veil of protection from the most intimate details of a person's life once they are gone. Death requires those left behind to delve into all areas of their loved one's existence. Financial, health, recreation, friends, dreams....no area is left untouched.
I have lost loved ones in the past but have never been responsible for handling the "business" that comes following their passing. Never have I been within the generation who would need to take on such a role. Therefore I was not aware of how much time and effort goes into sorting out the affairs of someone you have lost.
As your children grow older their right to and need for privacy increases. After all, they are becoming young adults. When my daughter Lauren died I had to go and pack all of her belongings and remove them from her dorm room at school. Aside from functioning in a fog, as I was completing this task a mere week after her accident, I felt so intrusive. No drawer could be left unopened, no paper untouched. Every part of her room, her life, open to examination.
It isn't that I feared what I might find. I knew my child well. But I still believed that she had the right to parts of her life which were her own and not to be shared with me or anyone else unless she chose to do so. Yet in death nothing can be kept hidden. Everything is revealed. Her autopsy included a toxicology report. It came as no surprise to me that the only substance found in her blood was caffeine.
I made the mistake of opening Lauren's autopsy while in my office at work. I thought to myself "I already know what I know so how bad can it be?" Let me tell you...I did not know what I thought I knew. Although her death certificate had to list the cause of death and I had already processed that information, I was not aware of how much additional damage had been done to her precious body that fateful night.
I wept as I read the details of the injuries that had taken place as the car flipped multiple times finding its final resting place upside down beside the road. I prayed that her death had been swift and merciful upon impact and her injuries were unknown to and not felt by her that night. Please Dear Lord I hope my baby was not in pain.
After reading the report I think back and am extremely thankful that I was able to see Lauren and say good bye. It was truly a blessing from God that I was able to leave her casket open for others to also see her one last time if they chose to. All things considered, she looked absolutely beautiful that day.
A dear friend of mine, Shelly, comforted me perfectly after I shared my feelings about Lauren's report with her. She texted me the next day and wrote "You have been in my thoughts last night and this morning. I am so sorry that you had to read all the trauma that your baby's body had to go through. I won't say that I know what you're going through because I just don't. I have been praying for you to have comfort and peace of mind that God scooped Lauren's soul up straight to Heaven without a scratch in it. Her poor body was left to take the worse but she was already enjoying the peace and joy of God's love in Heaven."
Amen.....I couldn't have said it better myself.

Miscommunication and Mishaps

Although her expressive language skills were top notch...at times Lauren's receptive communication abilities were lacking. She didn't always understand what Ray and I were asking her to do. We even had her hearing checked as she had suffered with meningitis at age 4 and hearing loss can be a side effect. But all results were within normal limits and life went on pretty smoothly.
Most of the time a simple restatement on our part provided the clarity Lauren needed to get our gist. I remember one occasion, however, that Ray delivered a message that Lauren got completely wrong. She was about 7 or 8 at the time and we were living in Lakeland. Our house sat far back on a long lot and we had a pretty lengthy driveway. The toilet in our guest bathroom was not working properly so Ray was working on it. He had used our wet/dry shop vac which he had just cleaned thoroughly and ensured was in perfect working order prior to starting the project. He was sitting on the floor of the bathroom and needed a bit more working space so he called Lauren who was playing in her room directly across the hall. "Take the shop vac and set it by the Jeep." he instructed. We owned a refurbished 1986 Jeep CJ 7 at the time and it was parked right in front of the garage door. Ray then went about his work.
I was cleaning the kitchen when about 5 minutes later Lauren entered the house from the garage and asked Ray..."Was somebody supposed to come and get that vroom vroom thing?" "Uh...you mean the shop vac?" Ray said. "Yeah...that thing" Lauren answered. Ray was now curious and said "No...why?" Lauren sincerely explained "Well I set it by the street like you said and a van came by and picked it up." "STREET..I said to put it by the JEEP!" Ray exclaimed while rushing out the door to see if the van was still in sight. Poor Lauren. We never let her live that one down. Anytime we saw a shop vac we harassed her. Hey, that's what families are for right?
Another mishap took place when Ray's wedding ring went missing. We searched and searched everywhere. I checked the laundry area in the garage, tore apart our bedroom and even looked in the traps under the sinks. We eventually gave up and went to purchase another identical ring...although the original one was engraved on the inside. But the new one would have to do.
Months later I was giving Lauren's room a thorough Spring cleaning part of which was to completely remove everything from her closet. Sitting atop her closet shelf was a RoboParrot toy we had gotten her a few years earlier. I grabbed it by the back and pulled it down from the shelf. Low and behold but what did I find pinned in its lovely little robobeak....Ray's wedding ring! Good gravy, I thought, what am I gonna do with that kid! Love her....that's what I did.

The Chameleon

I treated Lauren to her first highlights in her hair for her birthday when she turned 12. She had been talking about them for some time but I didn't think it was appropriate to start such processes too young. Some might think 12 is too young but I promise, it was only little touches to her already dirty blond hair.
Then as she got older Lauren loved to experiment with her hair color. The only thing I insisted upon was that she always stay within some natural hair color family....red, blond, brunette or even black but no green, purple or pink. She respected my boundaries but did push them to the limits sometimes. The trouble with me trying to tame her hair color changing obsession was that she could pull off every single color she tried.
She was beautiful as a blond, ravishing as a red head, a bombshell as a brunette and even when she did a little funky black color with a touch of red around her face she looked cute as could be. Lauren's skin, although she battled an occasional breakout, was gorgeous. It was pale like mine but not as freckled thanks to her dad. He eyes were a bright green ringed with a little blue. The perfect combination of natural coloring to be capable of looking great with any hair color she chose.
When she was little we allowed her hair to grow all the way down her back. It was naturally blond and had just a little curl in it. When we moved to the lake front house in Lakeland we finally had to cut it up to her shoulders. No matter what product I tried I could never remove all of the minerals from the lake water and combing it out became a battle that was not worth fighting.
Every now and then Lauren would choose a red that was a little orange and bright. But people loved it and would compliment her only fueling her desire to keep coloring it. One complication from her desire to color her hair was the fact that her bathroom looked like someone had been injured in there if I didn't stay on her to clean up properly. Especially when using red hair dye. My toilet seat still has stains on the lid where she forgot to wipe it all up before it dried.
Another issue came into play when she didn't keep up with the applications and the darker roots started showing. I remember one such occasion where she had gone too long between dye jobs . I had affectionately referred to Lauren as "Rainbow Bright" for about a week in an attempt to give her the hint to fix her hair. The ends had faded back to dark blond, the shafts were still red and the roots were brown. She and I went to dinner at one of our favorite restaurants one night and I couldn't take it anymore. After dinner we walked down the plaza to a fairly new hair salon and asked if they could fit her in. About $180.00 later she was a stunning red head again.
All of this drove my mother crazy but I reminded her that this was a pretty innocuous way for Lauren to express herself. She was very artistic so she innately desired expression. I thought she handled it well.
I suppose she had decided on a color she liked just before her accident. When I went to pack all of her things in her dorm room she had pinned a portion of the box of hair color to her bulletin board. I guess this was her way of remembering which type to buy the next time.
I considered getting the same color and doing my hair as a way of honoring her...you think of anything and everything possible to do to feel close to your child when she is gone. But I would never be able to pull it off like my beautiful Lauren did. So I stick to my own color and keep moving on remembering my little chameleon and how gorgeous she was, inside and out, regardless of the color of her hair.

Facing the Unexpected

Kevin and I attended church Sunday for Father's Day. I knew the day was going to be emotionally tough as I worried about Ray and how he was handling everything. I remember all too well how difficult Mother's Day had been on me.
The sermon that morning was delivered by our Pastor of College and Youth Singles. He did a phenomenal job. He was extremely candid about the tragedy he and his wife have endured since January by losing not one but two babies to miscarriages. The most recent took place a couple of weeks after Easter. The message revolved around what happens when we are faced with something unexpected in our lives. Needless to say, a State Trooper at my door around 4:15 in the morning on March 28 delivering the devastating news of my beautiful daughter's death was totally unexpected. Never in my wildest imagination would I have considered such an event occurring upon going to sleep that night before.
The pastor talked about turning an unexpected tragedy into an unexpected opportunity. An opportunity to blow others' expectations away. He spoke of how his own loss has brought him even closer to his wife and strengthened their marriage. He expressed how he had to humble himself before the Lord and completely rely on His grace to see him out of the "Hell on Earth" he was traveling through. He could not "fix" this (as most men want to do) and had to depend on his faith in God. God will see us through if we allow Him to.
It was as if the entire message was just for me. I do not fancy myself to be the only person in the sanctuary who is going through a traumatic loss, but I desperately needed to hear the exact words being uttered that morning. Of course I cried the entire time and even turned to Kevin at one point and said "Please don't let me ever come to church again without tissues....ever!" while I attempted to wipe my tear stained cheeks with my bare hands.
Using your story was also emphasized throughout the sermon. Creating a testimony for God's love and work through your own tragedy. I have been struggling with this for weeks. I don't particularly like my story....especially the latest chapter. I write it here as a way to purge my broken heart and cleanse my mind if only very temporarily. But what is its message? I pray for clarity. All I can see now is misery and pain. How can this help anyone?
My favorite part of the sermon was when the young and enthusiastic pastor informed the congregation that Jesus is not inept. When something tragic happens in our lives our Savior is not running around Heaven in a panic asking "What do I do now?" He sits at the right hand of God and is more than capable of knowing what to do next. It is I who feels inept. I who struggles to move forward each and every day. I who debates whether or not to hang my dead daughter's stocking this Christmas. And I who doesn't yet understand what to do with my story. After all, even though I don't like it, it's the only one I've got.

Ugly Kitty

Lauren always loved kittens. Unfortunately she had a bad run of luck in recent years with being a kitty mommy. I allowed her to talk me into a kitten from a litter that her friend's cat had given birth to. This little orange kitty was tiny but feisty so we decided to call him Napoleon....he had a complex! He was a sweet little guy and Lauren loved him. The agreement was she could have him inside to visit but he mostly had to live outside. We were not going to start keeping a litter box inside because I knew she would not keep up with it.
Around the same time I had adopted a mutt from a friend of mine to keep my dog KC company. Kody, as I named him, was a Treeing Walker Coon hound mix that had wandered up onto my friend's property way out in the country. This tends to happen at times when a hunting dog doesn't perform well. The owner drives them way out into the woods and leaves them there. The deal I made with my friend Ruby was if her husband came over to help me put gates up and close in my otherwise completely fenced back yard I would take the pooch.
My shower has a window overlooking the back yard. I would be in the shower getting ready for work in the morning with the window open to allow steam to escape and that darn cat would be meowing in a tree right behind the house. Being the sappy sucker I am I would get my ladder (after exiting the shower and getting dressed of course) and rescue poor Napoleon. Now I am telling you this happened at least twice a week in the exact same tree. I always scolded the little guy but it didn't seem to help.
Morning time is also when I let the dogs out for potty and exercise. I never put two and two together until the fateful morning that little Napoleon didn't make it to the tree in time and Kody, the innately programmed hunting dog, caught him. Again I was in the shower when I heard the ruckus. I immediately started shouting at Kody out the open window to leave Napoleon alone as I scrambled to get out of the water, grab my robe and run to the back yard. Sadly I was too late. Then I had to break the news to Lauren. My heart broke for her.
Kody was removed from our home the following week. He wasn't a good fit for our family for many other reasons and not based on this incident alone. I fully understand he was just doing what came naturally. I lamented over the fact that I had fussed at poor Napoleon for running to that tree and getting stuck. Little did I know he was trying to survive. Shame on me.
Time passed and once again Lauren got the "itch" to get another kitten as soon as she heard that my sister Beth's neighbor had some available. The same deal was made about no litter box and she went to select her new baby. My sister accompanied her to look at the kittens. I have to tell you that Lauren picked the ugliest little kitten out of the bunch. Even my sister recalls asking her if she was sure she wanted the one she picked out. The kitten is a black ¨tortoiseshell¨ cat which means she has blotches of color throughout her black coat. And her nose is completely covered with an orange stripe.
When Lauren brought her home we started talking about names. The little kitty was somewhat uncoordinated and would knock things off our side tables when she jumped atop of them. Then she would give us a look as if saying she was sorry. All of a sudden a name came to me....Gilly.
Kristen Wiig had a running bit on Saturday Night Live in which she portrays a bratty little girl named Gilly. In these skits Gilly wreaks all sorts of havoc and the other characters say her name..."Giiiiillllllyyyyyyy?", dragging it out and then the camera closes in on her as she says "Shawy" (sorry) in a funny, lispy voice. Lauren loved those skits and made me watch them with her on YouTube all the time. When I suggested the name we laughed and laughed. Lauren loved it instantly.
So, the ugly little kitty was named Gilly. Gilly was a good little kitty and spent some time inside but mostly outside. I have another cat named Sophie who is not the most welcoming of gals but she was starting to become a little accepting of Gilly. Then all of a sudden Gilly was gone. We checked to make sure we hadn't accidentally closed her up in our detached garage but she wasn't there. Kevin worried that maybe a hawk had snatched her as she was still pretty small. I looked on the roads daily as I went to and from work worried that maybe she had been hit by a car. She simply disappeared. Poor Lauren. Months went by with no sign of Gilly.
Then all of a sudden we had a sighting. We would see her on occasion and then weeks would go by with nothing. I was worried she would come back pregnant. We had not gotten her spayed yet. That was all I needed...a bunch of kittens. This pattern remained up until Lauren's death. Then Gilly started coming around a little more. She would be in our driveway when we came home or Kevin would see her eating the food we put on the back porch for Sophie.
In recent weeks she has been at the house daily. The other night I set out a little bowl of food and water on the carport for her. Kevin is less than thrilled that I am setting up an additional pet area at our house. I informed him that I am worried that Sophie will run Gilly off too much in the back and I see nothing wrong with having a back porch kitty AND a carport kitty. He loves me and will tolerate me like the great husband he is. I am truly blessed.
Something about having that little ugly kitty around helps my heart feel better. She is a reminder of my sweet Lauren's love and acceptance. She always stuck up for the under dog and didn't judge others based on outward appearances...not even kittens. I can happily report that Gilly is not pregnant. Probably because she is so durn ugly the other cats won't have her. I know, I know...I'm terrible.

Deciding on Dad

When Lauren was born I was a single mom. Her father Mitchell and I had dated for a while but in the end did not work out long term. I was working as a server in a local restaurant and going to school. Dating wasn't really a high priority.
Then I received a call out of the blue from Mitchell's sister Christine. She announced that she was getting married soon and wanted me to be her maid of honor. She also wanted me to meet her finance's friend because she thought we would hit it off. I asked a little about him. She informed me that he was recently divorced and had two kids. Great...I thought, this is going to be interesting.
Needless to say, without going into too much detail, I did end up really liking this guy. Ray and I were married three and a half months from the day we met. Lauren was only 21 months old. I became step mom to his two kiddos and he became dad to Lauren. Unfortunately Mitchell and I had not remained in contact and therefore Lauren had not even met him.
So, for the 12 years Ray and I were married he was Lauren's dad. When she was little he used to read her Disney books and loved messing up the words to make Lauren giggle. Cinderella became ¨Send her a fella¨ and his favorite was Sleeping Beauty who he immediately named ¨Sleeping Booty¨. Lauren acted upset and tried to correct him but she was laughing too hard.
Ray provided a great parental balance and contributed to raising Lauren to become the wonderful person she was when we tragically lost her. He was firm where I was lenient and he was tender where I was tough. It worked out well and Lauren even thanked us as she got older for the manner in which we brought her up and taught her respect for others and their property. The respect for property was a little extreme due to Ray's borderline obsessive compulsive disorder and anal retentiveness but we still loved him anyway.
When our marriage took a turn for the worse my heart broke for Lauren. It wasn't her fault that Ray and I couldn't get off the crazy merry go round we found ourselves stuck on and get our acts together yet her life was altered immensely from our decision to divorce. And because we had never completed a legal adoption Ray technically had no obligation to Lauren as a father.....legally at least.
I had some people in my life who felt I should force Lauren to no longer see Ray. He was not paying child support so he didn't have the right to see the child. This was the rationale those folks used to try to convince me. Again, always relates to the all mighty dollar.
I admit it was tough being a single mom again and I could have used a bit more financial help at times but here's the thing....Ray was Lauren's dad in her heart. Keeping him in her life was not a decision for me to make. She was old enough to decide for herself. Although they encountered a few rough patches along the way Lauren never stopped loving Ray as her dad.
When she and I moved back to Brandon after the divorce I also reconnected with Mitchell and his family who lived about an hour away. Lauren was thrilled with the opportunity to get to know Mitchell and gaining another sister, Morgan, was a definite bonus.
This Sunday is Father's Day. Ray will surely celebrate with his children Donnie and Lauren Michelle. But I know he will also be heartbroken as he misses our Lauren. After all, she had decided that he was her dad.

Hopewell

Hopewell is an unincorporated community in Hillsborough County. It is also where my daughter Lauren died. I find it ironic that within about 50 yards of the scene of the fatal car crash that took her life is a standard green department of transportation sign indicating to drivers that they have just entered Hopewell.
Now there are three more signs accompanying the green Hopewell marker. The department of transportation has erected memorial the signs we requested for Lauren, Joe and Jenna reminding all to drive safely. These signs are affectionately referred to in the biz as "lollipop" signs due to their round white tops.
This "area" is so small that as I researched it further all I found was a definition in the GNIS or Geographic Names Information System. It is categorized as a "populated place". Defined as a place or area with clustered or scattered buildings and a permanent human population (city, settlement, town, village). A populated place is usually not incorporated and by definition has no legal boundaries. However, a populated place may have a corresponding "civil" record, the legal boundaries of which may or may not coincide with the perceived populated place.
I have driven on this stretch of road countless times and I don't recall ever noticing this Hopewell sign. I always considered this part of the state road to be Plant City, the larger town near by. Perhaps the locals would quickly inform me that Hopewell is its own very distinct area but until this tragedy I had never given it a second thought.
I tell you all of this to emphasize the minimal importance of this specific location to most of the general population. But to me it is by far one of the most significant areas in the world. It is here that my life was changed forever. It is here that a piece of me died along with my precious daughter. And it is here that events unfolded that caused my faith in God to be thrust into focus with such urgency, intensity and desperation that it almost left me breathless. I still smile at the name on this sign as I pray for continued strength and think to myself...I HOPE all is WELL with my Lauren.

Oh Baby!

Lauren's obsession with babies started early.  She loved watching ¨A Baby Story¨ on TLC when she was little and didn't even flinch at the culminating delivery scene at the conclusion of each episode. Pregnant women fascinated her and this occasionally caused some embarrassing moments in public. ¨Don't touch the nice lady's belly Lauren.¨
At one point Lauren had convinced herself that she wanted to grow up and become a ¨baby doctor¨. The older she grew the more she learned about this particular specialty in the medical field and she changed her mind. It aint all about delivering babies and she wasn't interested in the other ¨stuff¨.
I confess that this infatuation with babies caused me quite a bit of grief over the years. I lifted many a prayer specifically asking that God help Lauren make healthy decisions and NOT become pregnant. It's sad to say but each year I grew more and more relieved about the topic. It's shameful to admit thinking this way but as my daughter got older it became less detrimental if she were to become pregnant.  Of course I hoped and prayed that she would remain abstinent but the reality is....we're all sinners and fall short.  I would bargain with God and say ¨Dear Lord please just let her get out of high school without getting pregnant.¨....¨Please let Lauren finish college without getting pregnant.¨....¨Please let Lauren find a wonderful Godly man to marry and THEN get pregnant.¨
It didn't help that many of Lauren's friends were getting pregnant shortly after high school graduation. It seemed like every time I turned around she was coming home and reporting that another girl she graduated with was pregnant. And every time she shared the latest impregnation scenario she and I  would have our ¨talk¨.  Lauren would say ¨I know mom....I get it. I don't want to have a baby now. I promise.¨
I have to give a big shout out to Lauren's high school and thank them for the wonderful senior project which included bringing home a computerized baby as part of a senior project. It was all fun and games until Lauren wanted to go to sleep that night. She tried figuring out how to remove the batteries to no avail. She finally slept on the couch with the baby in its carrier on the floor covered with pillows and blankets. ¨Tsk tsk...I'm gonna call DCF girl¨ I said the next morning when I discovered her solution to her simulated single mom experience. ¨Shut up mom.¨ is what I got in response to that comment. I think this little experiment went a long way in answering my ongoing prayers. Way to go lil robobaby....love ya.
She did like to play jokes on me though. Like the time she and her boyfriend Joe thought it was funny to give me an interesting gift for my birthday. We were in the kitchen about to leave to meet up with the rest of my family at a restaurant and she handed me a bag. When I pulled out what was inside I stood there in shock. It was a diaper. I stared at the diaper, then I stared at her. She was smiling from ear to ear and then blurted out ¨Congratulations!¨ She tried to maintain composure as long as possible but quickly told me it was a joke. Her real gift was a silver turtle necklace. I did not think it was very funny.
And her love for babies drove her to come home the night she was tragically killed. I know she was so excited to meet her brand new niece. I also know she would have loved little Dixie'ana right away. I am not upset that she was coming to meet this precious new life. It actually makes my heart smile that my sweet girl was traveling that night for such a wonderful reason. And I am also happy that her final thoughts were of something she loved so much.....a baby.

Give it a Try

 

I used to feel guilty from time to time about Lauren dedicating herself to softball. I worried that I had pressured her into the same sport that I myself loved so much. She had grown up watching me play on several slow pitch teams and watched me coach. But I promise I did encourage Lauren to try different things as she was growing up to make sure she found her own niche.
The first interest was dance. There was a cute and perky dance instructor who came to Lauren's daycare. It was super convenient as the lessons were in the afternoon prior to me picking Lauren up. She had fun in the class and even participated in the big recital at the end of the season. Her costume was red, sparkly and had a tutu. And of course she was adorable. But come the next year she was not very interested.
Next came gymnastics. I enrolled her at a gym in Lakeland that was on the way home from school. She learned how to do some entry level ¨tricks¨ on  the balance beam but spent a majority of the time bouncing on a trampoline. Her fascination with this sport was over before I had to break it to her that she looked like a little ¨Human Bean¨ (sold at Hallmark in the eighties....look em up) in her pink leotard.
Then Lauren tried her hand at being a cheerleader. Of the teams available in our area of course I was going to go with the Lakeland Gators. She actually stuck with this for two seasons. I coached her team the second year. I had a blast choreographing a dance for her pee wee team to perform at a local competition. When we arrived the day we were going to show our stuff the organizer of the event pulled me to the side with some bad news. She informed me that the other pee wee teams had dropped out. She asked if I still wanted my girls to perform. Heck yeah we're gonna perform. I gathered the parents together and told them the news but asked that they not tell the girls. We went out on that field and they strutted their stuff. When the time came to hand out trophies my little team came in first. I waited years to tell Lauren they came in first out of one.
When we moved south of Jacksonville Lauren joined a Girls Scout troop at her school. She had a fun time and earned a few badges. But this too didn't hold her interest for long.
Lauren had played one season of t ball while still in Lakeland. Now in a new area she expressed interest in softball again. One day she brought home a flyer from school detailing softball try out information for the local athletic association. She was super excited. Ray and I took her to a Saturday try out session and then to lunch afterward.
As we sat at the table at our favorite Mexican restaurant I asked Lauren about what position she thought she wanted to play. ¨I want to be a pitcher.¨ Holy crap...a pitcher? I even tried to talk her out of it. I told her that pitchers have to run more, show up to practice early and stay at practice late. I told her the pressure on the mound can be intense while everyone is watching you. Nothing I said mattered, she wanted to be a pitcher. ¨Alright...¨ I announced...¨When we get home I will teach you the basics and we will see what you've got.¨
All be darned if that girl wasn't a natural. There was no stopping her after that. Unfortunately it came to her too easily and therefore she was never forced to work hard when she was younger. I was truly amazed each and every time she threw the ball. Not every game....every individual pitch. I had no idea how she did it. I was a talented ball player but could never pitch. I admired her so much for that.
So I look back and realize that I did provide enough variety for Lauren to have an opportunity to take a different direction had she chosen to do so. The only sport I never suggested is soccer....I hate soccer. I love all of my soccer friends, but I hate the sport. I am so thankful that apparently Lauren didn't ever care for it either. That's my girl.

Money Can't Buy You....

We have all heard the sayings ¨money can't buy you love¨ and ¨money can't buy you happiness¨. I am here to tell you that some cliches are extremely true. Life is about perspective and I can honestly say that my new view has taught me that these sayings are right on the money...pun intended.
My precious Lauren was killed in a tragic accident through no fault of her own. Now a lot of people think this means I should be owed monetary compensation. Some people think this should be a substantial amount. My question to them would be ¨For what?¨ It's not like I was dependent upon Lauren's income which would now be lost...actually the opposite it true.  No amount of money can bring my daughter back to me. No monetary value will fill the immense hole in my heart. And no substantial pay out will make me mourn her loss any less.
It is expensive to lay a loved one to rest. I was extremely fortunate that my ex Ray was able to take on most of the expense for Lauren's service and I will be eternally grateful. I realize this is not the case for everyone and therefore receiving benefits from insurance policies is crucial.
I admit it would be beneficial to have additional funds to help with starting the scholarship in Lauren's name but I believe it would come at too high a price. I do not want to deal with attorneys (no offense) and law suits and finger pointing. Considering that the "at fault" driver also perished in the accident exactly who am I going to point at anyway? I do not want to rehash the worst night of my life over and over again. I do not want to fill my head and heart with even more details about the events leading up to Lauren's terrible demise than I already know.
As time goes on and I handle more business pertaining to losing Lauren my monthly budget adjusts. Dropping Lauren from our car insurance caused a reduction in our monthly payment. No longer needing to set money aside to pay for her classes equals savings. Cell phone coverage includes one less device so that bill has come down too.  I cannot express to you how insignificant these savings are in comparison to having my daughter here with me again. I would gladly pay any amount to have her back.
I went to the bank the other day to deposit some funds sent to me from my insurance company. When I returned home I sat in my back room amidst all of Lauren's things we brought back from her dorm room and I wept. I held her stuffed animals and buried my face in them to dry my tears hoping to catch her scent. I touched her clothes and rummaged her papers. I was a total mess.
So I can honestly say that money cannot buy you love or happiness. It can buy you things....items. But it cannot buy you everything you want. It cannot buy you a way to go back in time and change events. If it could then I might be interested.

For the Love of Domo

Lauren absolutely and unequivocally loved Domo. For those of you who are unfamiliar with who Domo is allow me to explain. Domo is the official mascot of Japan's public broadcaster NHK, appearing in several 30-second stop-motion interstitial sketches shown as station identification during shows. Domo first appeared in short stop-motion sketches on December 22, 1998 to mark the 10th anniversary of NHK's satellite broadcasting. The name ¨Domo¨ was acquired during the second episode of his show in which a TV announcer said ¨domo konnichiwa¨ which is a greeting that can be translated as ¨Well, hello there!¨
This little character is a brown rectangle with an open mouth, jagged tooth grin and two little black beady eyes. I remember the first time Lauren showed one to me I asked it it was a piece of poop....with teeth. ¨Isn't he the cutest mom?¨ she inquired. Uh...sure.This love affair only grew with time. Lauren had Domo dolls, Domo hats, Domo backpacks, a Domo change purse (now this is in my purse with her school ID inside), Domo stickers and anything else she could find.
Kevin and I took the girls on a vacation to North Georgia during Christmas break a couple of years ago. Of course Lauren brought along several Domos. She had a blast posing her Domo at various locations during our family road trip. She held him up to the window of the car and snapped pictures of the scenery going by quickly in order to make Domo appear to be flying.
Lauren's dorm room was decked out in Domos. When we went to pack up all of her things after the accident we discovered she had created a Domo den under her beds. Kevin crawled under and handed out Domo after Domo for me to pack. It was her little sanctuary I suppose.
Her love for Domo eventually led to her making the ultimate permanent tribute...a tattoo. That's right, you read it correctly, my child had a Domo tattoo. She designed it herself. I was totally flabbergasted when she showed me. ¨Lauren...really? You know you might not always like Domo. It is probably just a phase.¨ I implored. ¨Awww mom, I'll love Domo forever.¨.....¨You will now!¨
I still think it looks like a piece of poop.